


Adding to the Bitty Brigade (Buttons)

by Vexatious



Series: Bittybones [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Bittybones, Big Brothers, Bittybones Rescue, Blank Bittybones - Freeform, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Brassberry bittybones, Buttonberry Bittybones, CandyLand - Freeform, Candyland with the Old Rules, Cheating at Candyland, Disturbing Themes, Edgy Bittybones, Eye Trauma, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Neglectful Owner, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Red is Still Tsundere, Stitches Bittybones, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Tiny Sans, Tiny Underfell Sans, Tiny Yanderetale Sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/pseuds/Vexatious
Summary: In which a horrific situation results in a new little brother for Red and Brassy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here](https://vex-bittys.tumblr.com/post/155217692546/bittybones-fanfiction-index-and-characters) for more information about my Bittybones.

Game night was going well. That is to say, game night was going as well as things ever went when Brassy and Red were involved. Each move or rule was vehemently challenged and painstakingly argued over. Nobody had thrown any pieces yet, but the night was young. Tonight we played Candyland using the old rules. None of that “skip one turn” nonsense. If you got stuck in the Molasses Swamp, your ass stayed in the Molasses Swamp until you pulled a double red. My bittybones were currently in a heated debate over whether the “safety zone” at the end of the game should be honored in a game with home rules.

“Why d’you care? You already got sent back to the Peppermint Forest,” snapped Red.

“At least I haven’t been stuck in the Licorice Castle for six turns,” retorted Brass-Bean.

“While you guys are arguing, I’m about to win,” I teased. Honestly, they didn’t care at all if I won or not. I think they liked it when I won, but they competed fiercely with each other. Most game nights ended with a win for me and time-outs for both of them.

They bickered away like typical brothers, totally ignoring me as I closed in on the Candy Throne. Suddenly, I heard my phone ring. I checked the clock. I didn’t get a lot of calls, especially this late at night (after ten). I picked up my phone and saw, to my complete surprise, the bitty shop number flashing on the screen. Fearing an emergency of some sort (though I don’t know why she would’ve called me in an emergency), I hit send and the line connected to what sounded like heavy breathing and soft crying- an aria of anxiety.

“Gigi?” I prompted. I swore I could hear shouting and sirens in the background. “Are you ok?” 

“No!” The crying intensified. “It’s so awful! I’m on a rescue op for the Bittybones Protection League, and… it’s so horrible!” I waited while she let out a loud sob and then sniffled, trying to compose herself.

“What happened? Can I help?” I assumed she’d called me so I could assist her in some way.

“Can you… could you just come by the shop tomorrow? I’m taking one of the bittys with me, and… well… he needs a stable home after everything he’s been through. Do you think-”

“Sure,” I said, glancing at my openly eavesdropping bittybones; they didn’t even bother to look embarrassed or pretend not to listen. Were we a stable home? Gigi seemed to think so, and after appraising my two boys for a moment, I had to agree. We could do this.

A short pause followed, and I heard some shouting, much closer than before. “Thanks, Vex.” Gigi had regained some of her composure, though her voice still carried a slight tremor. “I’ve gotta go. See you tomorrow.” The line went dead; the living room was still and silent, game forgotten.

“News,” suggested Brassy as the silence stretched. Red nodded.

“News,” I agreed. 

We turned on the TV to a bittybones nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

I’m paraphrasing the news story because live news tends to contain a lot of repetition and speculation. 

* * *

My bittys (who perched one on each shoulder) and I noticed the ambulance first, mostly because a human sized lump, hidden by sheets, was being loaded unhurriedly into the back. When the EMTs weren’t rushing, it usually meant that the patient was beyond help. I wasn’t surprised when the reporter announced that a body had been removed from the house; I just wondered what all of this had to do with bittybones.

The home owner, whose name would not be released until his family had been notified of his death, had been a bitty hoarder. He’d been banned from bittybones shops across the city for adopting a large number of Buttontale-type bittybones. Not all shops carry button!bittys because the Papyrus of the pair, called Stitches, can become dangerous if not handled properly. I guess the shop owners figured he had as many of them as he could possibly handle, so they cut him off.

Instead of being satisfied with his unnervingly large collection of potentially dangerous bittybones, he’d decided to start acquiring Blank bittys from the shops that hadn’t banned him yet. That’s where the horror story started. A Bittybones Protection League spokesperson came on-camera to explain that the poor Blanks had had buttons sewn into their eyes by the Stitches bittys. A Sans button!bitty, called a Buttonberry, is created with buttons already present in their eyes, so it doesn’t hurt them. Essentially, this owner was bringing Blank bittys to his home to be tortured by his creepy pets.

The BPL had been investigating the situation when the local police had received a call from a concerned neighbor who’d spotted a Stitches bitty in her yard one night, trying to sew buttons onto her cat’s eyes. The cat had escaped after wounding the Stitches bitty, but the neighbor wanted to press charges. The police had knocked on the owner’s door and gotten no answer. The neighbor informed them that she hadn’t seen the bitty hoarder in over a week. The police became concerned, and when they checked, they found an unlocked rear door and let themselves in.

A slightly green-looking police officer offered commentary on their findings. They’d found the owner dead, which they believed to be of natural causes. However, in the absence of an owner to corral them at night, the Stitches had run wild. They’d sewn buttons onto their dead owner’s eyes and, eventually, over other parts of his partially decomposing body. Facing starvation, some of the bittys had even partially consumed the body. The camera panned away from the cop, who looked like he might puke, and focused back on the BPL spokesperson.

The BPL had arrived to round up the survivors. Many of the Buttonberry and Blank bittys were missing according to sales records from various shops. The news interviewer asked if the bittybones had cannibalized each other, and the BPL member gave her a harried look and stated flatly that there was no way to know the details at this point as the surviving bittys were too traumatized to elaborate on the conditions they’d lived in. The spokesperson also explained that, due to their feral nature, the Stitches could not be rehabilitated and would be humanely destroyed.

Up until that point, my own little bittybones had remained silent, but in the wake of the interview, Red made a sobering comment:

“Monsters dust when they die. The only way to cannibalize another bitty… is to eat them while they’re still alive.” 

We turned off the TV after that. I could understand Gigi’s hysteria if she’d been called in to help with that mess. Starving bittys, feral, dangerous bittys, bittys eating other monsters and people? I felt nauseous, and I had only seen it with a television screen to protect me from the harsh reality.

Wordlessly, I started putting away the game of Candyland that sat there, bright and cheery, like it belonged to another lifetime. Red and Brassy nestled against my neck in quiet contemplation. I knocked the top card off of the stack. A purple square faced up at me. It had been my turn when the phone rang. Had I ignored it and picked up the card, I would’ve won the game. Somehow, it didn’t seem so important anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

I decided to leave Brass Bean at home, so I gave him a tray of shiny embroidery beads to play with. He loves shiny things, but he tries to pretend he’s less greedy and needy than Red about gifts. He is not. They brawled over some pretty beach pebbles just last week, and I’m pretty sure Brassy’s haul got looted by my little kleptomaniac. Just in case, I slipped a few extra translucent amber stones into his room. 

There was no chance of leaving Red at home, however; he hadn’t seen Gigi, the shop owner, since I’d adopted him. I suspected his motivation might’ve also had something to do with showing the bittys at the shop that he’d successfully managed to “train” an owner to accept him.

**(you would not be entirely wrong)**

I also suspected he wanted to meet the new bitty first to keep the little guy from immediately gravitating to Brassy.

**(also not wrong)**

I desperately hoped that my two troublesome boys would not be a bad influence on this new bitty.

A heavy silence greeted us as we entered the shop; Gigi looked up from where she hunched over the counter. Recognition wiped the harried expression from her face, replacing it with one of relief. She waved us over to where she stood with two bittybones in front of her- one very small, the other sporting an elegant pair of wings. As I got closer to them I heard frightened whimpers and soothing murmurs from the bittys.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Gigi greeted me. “And you brought Red! Hey there, pumpkin.” She extended her hand to Red, who affectionately rubbed his cheek against her finger before letting her pick him up and set him on the counter with the other two bittys. Meanwhile, I’d leaned down to peer at them.

The winged bitty was the larger of the two; he had iridescent feathers, black shot through with brilliant blue. His tail twitched, and his hands were placed on the other bitty’s cheeks, eyes scrunched in concentration. The smaller bitty appeared to be young. His sockets were opened wide in pain with tears gathered at the corners. His eyelights resembled blue buttons, so I guessed he must be the rescue bitty. A blue glow surrounded the small bitty; the winged bitty seemed to be healing him.

“The little rescue Blank is called Buttons,” Gigi explained as Red walked across the counter to meet the strangers. “The winged bittybones is a new type called a Kara bitty. Buttons is still recovering from having the buttons sewn into his eyes removed, so Kara is healing him.”

“Hey there, Buttons,” Red greeted the small bitty, who was at least half an inch or more shorter than him. Buttons stared at him with his wide blue eyes; he began to tremble.

“Y-you’re not a c-carnivorous b-bitty, are you?” I suppose, coming from his situation, it was a valid question; Red did have sharp teeth. I had a feeling that he would be terrified of Brassy if he saw Brassy eating.

“Nah, I’m not a meat-eater, but I  _am_  a-” I quickly put my finger over Red’s mouth to shush him, and he bit me for my troubles. No way would I allow him to say “ _vag_ -itarian” in front of Buttons! He bit me again.

**(i will not be silenced!)**

“Red… Buttons is only 10!” I’d done my research before leaving the house this morning. The Buttonberry bittybones (and by association their Blank counterparts) were all children. It made the trauma they’d gone through that much worse.

“Oh…”


	4. Chapter 4

I suggested to Red that he should look around the shop, but as I swept the shop with my own gaze, I noticed that no other bittybones were visible. Red scurried excitedly down the counter to check out the various impulse buy items near the cash register. I had a feeling we’d be making some purchases for him before we left with Buttons. **  
  
(i’m an impulsive guy!)  
**  
”Where are the other bittys?” I asked Gigi, knowing there should have at least been a Papy bitty manning the register.  
  
Gigi watched as the Kara bitty rubbed the smaller monster’s back, checking on the progress of his healing. She glanced up when I asked my question. “Buttons is very traumatized, and larger bittybones, especially Papyrus-types, frighten him.” Even the sound of the word “Papyrus” appeared to alarm the small skeleton. When Gigi said it, he clutched the bigger monster tightly.  
  
”It alright, Buttons,” I said in a soft, reassuring voice. “I only have two bittybones, and they are Sans types and very friendly.” I reached out a tentative finger and stroked Buttons’ hunched back. He immediately leaned into my touch. As I petted him softly, he unfolded himself from Kara’s body and latched onto my hand instead, rubbing his small skull against my thumb.

I cooed happily at the affectionate little guy. “Well, he’s definitely a Blank bitty,” I proclaimed, in reference to his love of physical contact. Silence crept over the room with the exception of the rustling of Red pawing through merchandise, oblivious to the faux pas I had somehow unknowingly committed.

**(well, excuse me for _not_  eavesdropping!)**

I guess shoplifting is more interesting than spying.

**(i would never shoplift from Gigi)**

…

**(i would only shoplift a little bit from Gigi)**

Meanwhile, Buttons regarded me with wide, sad eyes.“Miss Gigi and Mr. Kara said that too, but I don’t even know what a Blank bitty is… ****All I remember is being a Buttonberry… and _Them_ …”I watched his expression transform as his focus turned inward. His eyelights seemed faded and worn as memories washed over him.“I don’t know how to be anyone else,” he concluded in a voice whisper soft with defeat. **  
**

My heart broke for this poor bittybones child who had no place in the world except the horrifying nightmare of his origins. I had to fix that for him.“You don’t need to be anyone but yourself,” I reassured him gently. “In our home, we love people and monsters for who they are, not what they are.”His big blue eyes blinked, and the trauma disappeared, replaced by wonder. I admired the little scamp’s ability to pull himself free of his sorrow, but I knew we’d have a lot of work to do before he could truly heal the wounds of his past. **  
**

As I went to collect Red, who was waist deep in a jar of monster candy, Gigi made a suggestion. “You might want to consider getting a Kara bitty. I don’t know how severe the damage to Buttons’ eyes was, but he will probably have headaches. A Kara bitty could also help your Brassyberry with pain management.” Hopeful of a bright future for Buttons, Gigi fell back into bitty shop owner mode.“In fact, there’s a bittybones convention in a few weeks, and the Kara bittybones’ creator will be there; you could adopt one from her directly.”Her excitement was contagious, and I promised myself that I would go to the event. I’d do it for Buttons. I’d do it for me. **  
**

I lifted Red out of the candy jar and set him on the counter next to Buttons. He clutched at armloads of monster candies which spilled comically out of his grip to roll across the counter and finally fall like hailstones onto the floor. “I guess we’ll be getting these,” I told Gigi as Red made his best puppy dog eyes at me. “What are they?” **  
**

Gigi laughed, surprising herself as much as it surprised me. “The small ones are for boosting or recovering magic,” she explained pointing as she bagged the candies that Red held as well as a few of the escapees. Monster candies to help magic recovery? That would be useful for Red except… I glared at him; he gave me a look of utter angelic innocence. **  
**

“Perfect. Now he won’t get so tired when he throws his tantrums.” I feigned excitement with a woo-hoo and a twirl of one finger, but I pulled out my wallet to pay. “And that one?” I indicated the much larger candy that Red rolled towards the cash register. **  
**

“That allows a bittybones to grow to full size for four hours.”

Oh. I could see where this was going, or rather, not going if I had anything to do with it. “Red, you don’t need to grow. I love you just the way you are!” I didn’t even allow him to protest as I scooped him up and placed him on my shoulder with Buttons beside him. As I picked up my purchases, sans  **(ha!)**  the growth candy, Gigi touched my arm. **  
**

“Please do everything you can for Buttons. I adopted out three Blank bittys to that man, and he was the only one left.” Tears welled in her eyes as I solemnly nodded. As the bell above the door tinkled its good-bye to the three of us, I saw her Papy bitty creep out from behind the cash register and give her a comforting hug on the arm.


	5. Chapter 5

When we arrived back at the house, I found Buttons dozing peacefully, partially tucked into Red’s jacket. When I mentioned it, Red played it off like nothing had happened, as if Buttons had gotten into his jacket by accident. His aloof and uncaring act didn’t fool me though. My tsundere sunshine was trying to take care of his little brother.

**(it wasn’t like that! i just didn’t want him to fall off of her shoulder on the way home is all. sheesh)**

Red scurried quickly into his bitty house to avoid additional unfair and highly demeaning accusations of kindness and basic decency, so I decided to let him be a grump (a sweet and caring grump apparently) and introduce Buttons to his other brother. I could already see Brassy peeping hopefully at us from the doorway of his own bitty home. Brassy was downright eager to be a loving big brother.

**(kiss ass)**

“Brassy Bean, pumpkin, come meet your little brother.” I waved him closer and held Buttons securely in my hands. Once again, he clung firmly to my thumb, watching Brassy with a wary expression.I nudged him forward, keeping a comforting fingertip on his shoulder blade. “Say hello, Buttons.”

Buttons smiled a strained little smile, trying so hard to be as cute and friendly as possible. “Hello, Buttons,” he said in his soft, frightened voice, and then he did something magical. He let out a laugh. It was a short laugh, a nervous laugh, but it was a laugh! I heard a snort  **(unrelated!)** from Red’s side of the room, and Brassy beamed proudly ( _our little brother’s first bad joke!_ ), which turned out to be a mistake.

Buttons eyelights darkened at the sight of Brassy’s jagged, sharp teeth, and his tiny body trembled in terror. He kept pushing himself backwards, away from the bigger bitty, attempting to shield himself with my hand. Desperate tears fell from his sockets as he chanted “don’t eat me” over and over again. He didn’t even seem to be pleading with Brassy; his wisp of a voice sounded like a prayer. 

Suddenly, I felt air displace in my hand, and Buttons vanished! Had he teleported? Had he been so scared of Brassy that he’d  _dusted_? My panic didn’t last long because I could hear extra small sniffles and the deep soothing tones of… Red’s voice?  **(lies)** I turned my head and saw, to my utter amazement, Red rubbing a terrified Buttons’ back in big soothing circles and telling him he’d be ok!  **(more lies)** Buttons actually clung to him for comfort. It was the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.

**(well, ok, that _might_  have happened)**

“I don’t like him. He’s scary!” Buttons cried, face hidden and words muffled by Red’s jacket.

**(finally someone else around here with good taste!)**

( _being scared of me isn’t good taste, Red!_ )

**(not everyone has to like you, assberry!)**

Brassberry stood in his bitty house, visibly deflated. Since Buttons had Red to comfort him, I went to comfort my poor little Brassy. I could see the rejection had hit him hard. I suspected Red was secretly pleased to share the misery of being picked last with his popular brother.  **(it’s not a secret… ha!)**

“It’s ok, Brassy Bean,” I cooed. “Little Buttons has been through a lot. He just needs to get to know you, that’s all.” More snorting could be heard from the peanut gallery. 

“Yeah, until he sees the big dummy  _eat_!” Red reminded me, smiling wickedly as he held Buttons. He had a point. Tonight Brassy got his raw meat, and he ate it like a savage. No way could we let Buttons see that!

Brassy tugged my sleeve. “I can eat in the garage,” he offered. I could see that Buttons’ acceptance meant a lot to him. “I could even skip this week!” Ok, Brassy was obviously desperate for Buttons’ acceptance because he never passed up a chance at raw meat.

**(no matter what you do, you’ll always know he liked me first)**

_(I guess everyone deserves that once in their life. Guess this is yours, Red.)_

I sighed. We hadn’t even made it to dinner yet, and Red was already utilizing Buttons to get at Brassy  **(was not!** ). Brassy was having a complete meltdown to the point where he didn’t want to eat ( _Nuh uh!_ ), and meanwhile, poor Buttons already felt uncomfortable around his new brother in their new home.

The road to recovery would definitely be a long and bumpy one, full of potholes and traffic jams and people who don’t use their blinkers. We could do it though. We are a family. We’ll make it work.

Somehow.


	6. Chapter 6

As Red and Brassberry continued their bickering, I called Buttons over to me. “Would you like to see your room?”

“Yes, momma,” he replied excitedly. “I’ve never had a room of my own before!”

“Call her Vex,” Red and Brassberry automatically corrected in unison. I have no idea how they even heard him calling me momma over their own heated debate about who would be Buttons’ favorite brother.

**(totally not what we were arguing about… but obviously me)**

“You are both terrible hypocrites,” I accused.

“Actually I think we excel at hypocrisy,” countered Red. The corner of Brassy’s mouth twitched, but I knew he’d rather die than laugh at one of Red’s jokes.

_(I laugh at his face all the time.)_

Choosing to ignore them, I deposited Buttons in his room. Sockets round with wonder, we immediately pounced on his bed, grabbing handfuls of the soft blankets and rubbing them against his little round cheeks. He squeaked in surprise at the mere sight of pillows, and my stomach twisted at the mental image of Buttons living in what I now thought of as the Nightmare House, huddled in a corner with his fellow Buttonberry and Blank siblings, hoping that the Stitches bittys wouldn’t notice them. Teeny angry voices interrupted by morbid musings.

“I’ll tell him you eat raw meat!” Red.

“I’ll tell him about the time you tried to drown me!” Brassy.

"Cut it out, you two.” Me.

Meanwhile, Buttons giggled as he rolled around on his new bed. Red stalked off to his own room, and Brassy sat on the computer desk, not wanting to ruin Buttons’ fun by showing up and frightening him. I decided dinner would solve all of our problems forever and went to the kitchen to cook.

I decided to go with a meal of veggie burgers and zucchini fries until I could gauge Buttons’ comfort level with our carnivorous tendencies. Would I have to give up bacon? I sure hoped not. I carried the three hungry boys to the table and placed food in front of them, proud of my culinary efforts.

Buttons ate like he hadn’t eaten in years, grateful just to see a plate of warm prepared food in front of him. Not so with my other two boys. They regarded the vegetarian fare with undisguised disgust, as if I had served them poison or maggots or  _vegetables_. Like a good sport  **(kiss ass)** , Brassy poked at his food, moving it around the plate without actually eating it. Red, always the dramatic  **(honest)**  one, simply turned up his nasal bone and crossed his arms over his chest.

Buttons cleaned his plate then proceeded to doze off right there at the table, teeny crumbs dotting his serene little face like edible freckles. I cleared away the rest of the food  **(garbage)** , and pulled some fresh raw meat out of the fridge for Brassy.

"I’m still hungry,” complained Red, eyeballing the fridge. I could’ve pointed out that he was hungry because he hadn’t eaten. I could’ve pointed out the zucchini fry that he’d surreptitiously slipped into his pocket for his so-called secret stash, but his behavior doesn’t even shock me anymore.

**(i could try harder)**

“Do you want me to cook you something to eat in the garage with Brassberry?”

He nodded. “Bacon.” Like I was a waitress, and he was placing his order.

I handed Brassy his meal and set him on the floor. He scooted for the doggie door, already gnawing the meat. I quickly cooked a slice of bacon for Red, who just as quickly vanished into the garage with it. He didn’t even leave a tip.

**(the service was lackluster)**

I picked Buttons up and carried him to his bed. He never even woke up, although he did nestle adorably into his nest of blankets. I could’ve stood there all night watching the little guy sleep, but I didn’t trust Red and Brassy alone in the garage for longer than it would take them to eat. I imagined them having a meat-fueled gladiator death match, so I hurried to the kitchen and opened the garage door to find…

Two bittybones, one slightly larger than the other, sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor. No blood-curdling screeches. No smashed or toppled objects. They’d finished their meal and just… sat there. I’ve never felt more suspicious in my entire life.

“You’re interrupting Meat Club,” Brassy commented dryly.

“Meat Club?” I asked.

“The first rule of Meat Club is that you don’t talk about Meat Club,” Red explained flatly.

“Have you guys been watching Fight Club?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Fight Club?” Brassy asked innocently.

“Never heard of it,” said Red, deadpan.


	7. Chapter 7

Since Buttons had already been tucked securely into his bed, I gathered up my two precious, totally-getting-along  **(for now)**  beans and took them into the bathroom for bath time. Usually they took separate baths in their bitty houses, but I didn’t want to disturb Buttons; he deserved a peaceful night’s sleep.

Mutual bathing proved to be a bit of a problem though. Brass Bean valued his privacy, and Red was… well… Red. As Brassy shyly stripped for his shallow water bath on the corner of the vanity, Red paraded around as naked as humanly (monsterly?) possible as I filled the sink, shaking his round red ecto butt proudly. The more uncomfortable Brassy became the more outrageously Red posed.

**(nudity is nothing to be ashamed of)**  

Running Red’s bath took forever, but Brassy waited patiently as I checked and rechecked the water temperature, added just the right amount of scented bubble bath, and put some small floating bath toys into the water. Red inspected his bath and declared it adequate.

**(it needed 100% less brassberry)**

Like a poor naive fool, I thought that Red would be able to get in his bath calmly and quietly, so I turned my attention to Brassy. I grabbed a Q-tip and removed his bandage to clean his head wound, a nightly ritual that he’d come to enjoy. Of course, it was too much to ask to focus on anything that wasn’t Red. A wave of sudsy water splashed me and Brassy as Red cannonballed into the sink.

**(oops)**

His displeasure thoroughly expressed, Red resumed his usual bathtub activity of pretending to be a shark  **(lies)** , quietly humming the Jaws theme  **(never!)**  as he sank beneath the bubbles only to pop up moments later to ambush his rubber ducky prey  **(slander)**. Each agonized squeak marked another tragic demise. 

I finished applying a clean dry bandage to Brassy Bean’s head wound, and he nuzzled my hand, making the most happy and adorable noises. He slid contentedly into his own shallow dish of water and began to scrub himself without a single splash. I donned my finger brush and turned to Red, hoping he hadn’t suffered too much from my lack of doting. When I started to rub his tiny bones clean he alternated between nipping me irritably and ignoring me and pouting.

**(you spent so much time with assberry that my bath got cold! i could die of hypothermia!)**

I sighed. By the time my bittybones were clean, my hand was sore and my nerves were frayed. I made sure to choose a large fluffy towel to dry my boys off, thinking that, with its sheer size, sharing wouldn’t be an issue, but they bickered and argued over towel territory like two teeny angry toddlers. Brassy dressed himself, but Red struggled and fought as I tried to put his pajamas on him. Finally,  _finally_ I managed to get the three of us ready for restful slumber.

That’s when the screaming started. There’s something particularly disturbing about a child’s scream. It is as if they experience fear on a deeper and more visceral level than adults. Buttons’ pervasive shrieking sliced me straight to the heart. I dashed from the bathroom to the bedroom, frantically slapping the wall until I found the light switch. As I flipped the switch, the piercing wail faded into broken sobs.

Red had teleported. He knelt in front of Buttons, holding the smaller skeleton tightly and rubbing his back. I hurriedly grabbed a piece of monster candy as I saw Red sway a bit. Seeing him comfort Buttons like that made me forget all the little bite marks on my hand and the huge puddle on the bathroom floor. 

Buttons had his face tucked against Red’s shirt and I could hear him crying softly along with the murmur of comforting words from Red  **(nuh uh!)**.

“-was dark, and I was all alone,” Buttons whimpered, “and I got so scared.”

I handed Red the magic recovery candy, and he crunched it gratefully. I gently touched Buttons’ damp little cheek, and he leaned against my finger, sniffling but already much calmer thanks to Red.

“Why don’t you sleep in the bed with me, Red, and Brassy tonight?” I offered. My smallest bittybones nodded, looking relieved. “I have a nightlight too, and if you wake up and you’re scared, we’ll be there for you, ok?” Buttons hugged my finger tightly. In the light of his traumatic memories, Buttons had somehow found it in his pure little soul to accept Brassy. 

That night, Buttons slept curled up snugly between Red and Brassberry on my chest under the soothing aurora of my color-changing nightlight. The rest of the night passed in tranquil silence.


	8. Chapter 8

The pattering of tiny hands on my face roused me from a deep, dreamless slumber. I groaned, hating the feeling of waking up before the alarm had even gone off. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, and I was already swearing oaths under my breath to make Red sleep on the floor if he was interrupting me with a heat cycle again.

**(hey!)**

I don’t know what I expected to see in the subdued, colored tones of my nightlight, but it certainly wasn’t three panicked bittybones, one of whom appeared to be bleeding out of darkened eye sockets. Poor Buttons’ bright blue eyelights had faded away to nothing, and rivulets of blood overflowed his sockets and ran down his chubby little cheeks. Brassy rubbed his back, murmuring words of comfort while Red ran around frantically with no apparent purpose.

I think the sight of blood freaks him out.

**(blood does not freak me out. i was just trying to be loud so you’d wake up. duh.)**

I scooted carefully out of the bed, pawing at the nightstand, looking for my phone. “Are you ok, Buttons? Can you see at all?”

The small, frightened skeleton clung to Brassy. “No,” he responded in a tremulous voice, trying to be brave and hold back his tears. “It hurts,” he added with a pitiful whimper.

I pressed the speed dial to call Gigi without even bothering to check the time. Buttons needed help now. This couldn’t wait. I lifted the phone to my ear only to find the side of my face wet and sticky. Gross! I must’ve drooled in my sleep.

**(you did. a lot. like a drool factory.)**

Anyway, I swiped the drool factory detritus off of my cheek as the phone rang. Gigi answered on the third ring with a groggy hello, and I explained the situation as quickly as I could. Buttons had started to cry; his teeny wails were heartbreaking. Once Red had calmed down enough from his fear of blood  **(nuh uh!)** , he moved closer to help Brassy comfort their little brother.

**(i just wanted him to stop crying because it was annoying is all)**

Gigi promised to come by as soon as she could, and I gave her directions while dabbing Buttons’ tiny face with a cold wet cloth. Every time I wiped away the blood, more seeped out to replace it. The sheer amount of it worried me. I began to pace, turning on every light inside and outside the house as anxious energy jolted me to unnecessary action.

What if Buttons fainted? What if he went blind? Had I messed up? Had I done something wrong, failed my new bittybones in some way that would cause him permanent damage? I couldn’t breathe. How long had poor Buttons been bleeding while I slept on, unaware of his plight? How could I be such an irresponsible owner? Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to suck air into my fluttering lungs.

I must’ve been dissociating  **(you were)**  because it took several long minutes for Red’s obnoxious shouting to sink in- just one word, repeated over and over as he tried to get my attention.

“Momma! Momma!  _MOMMA!_ ” Red stood tall, as tall as he could anyway, and glared at me with his tiny hands on his tiny hips. “Buttons is having a panic attack! Maybe you should try singing to him to help alleviate it.” It was a surprisingly good idea.

**(surprising? i have good ideas all the time. you just don’t listen!)**

I sifted through my extensive list of memorized songs, trying to find something that might placate a child. Focusing pulled me back to a stable mental state. I decided to go with an upbeat song called “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. I sang the song, humming the parts that didn’t require vocals, and my three sweet boys quietly settled onto the bed to listen. Buttons couldn’t see me, but the sound of my voice seemed to captivate him.

**(two panic attacks, one stone. you’re welcome)**

_(Says the guy who freaks out whenever he sees blood.)_

**(jealous?)**

_(Of you? Hardly.)_

After a few encores, I heard the doorbell ring. Gigi, finally! She stood on the front steps with her Kara bittybones perched on top of her head. I let her in and led her to the bedroom. The concerned Kara bitty launched himself from his owner’s cranium with a happy “Koo!” as soon as he saw Buttons. I guess Kara bittys really enjoy healing others because it drains their excess magic.

Buttons craned his neck, trying to track the source of the noise without the benefit of eyesight. Kara landed on the bed, laying a gentle hand on Buttons’ shoulder so as not to startle him. My two big boys stepped back to let the Kara bitty get to work. Brilliant cobalt magic surrounded Buttons, and the crimson lines streaking his face slowly vanished as his eyelights reappeared, bright, blue, and button-shaped.

“I think you should bring him by the shop for regular healings, at least until you get a Kara bitty of your own,” Gigi commented while we watched Buttons’ miraculous magical recovery. I nodded. as a drowsy but healthy Buttons leaned back against his bigger brothers and went straight back to sleep, snoring softly. A bitty-sized purr sounded from Brassy as he curled up around Buttons protectively.

Red nestled into the blankets on Buttons’ other side. When he thought I wasn’t looking, his small hand snuck out and rubbed Buttons’ teeny skull. Adorable!

**(nuh uh!)**


	9. Epilogue (Red Speaks)

I didn’t even bother asking Red about the garage ceasefire; he’d never tell.

**(never)**

I decided to ask Brassberry instead, but I never got a chance. A very disgruntled Red begrudgingly offered to share the events with the readers  _only_. Neither Brassy nor I were allowed to read it. Thanks for your vote of confidence, Red.

**(you’re welcome)**

* * *

**for the record, let me just start off by saying that there’s no way brassy was going to beat me at candyland. of course momma would’ve won, but second place would’ve been mine all mine.**

**also, i didn’t _steal_ from gigi. i knew she wouldn’t want me to go without the things i wanted, so i just helped myself. she understands.**

**as for buttons, well, my heart goes out to the kid. not that i like him or anything or care about him, y’know. it’s just that he didn’t have a good home, and even though he lives with us now, he still has to deal with the things he saw and what happened to him. not that i care or anything. it’s just hard for a blank bitty. they’re supposed to bond with an owner, not get all borg-assimilated into a group of other bittys.**

**i mean, don’t get me wrong, i’m not the big brother type, but seeing the poor little guy cry made me realize that maybe brass and i are kinda lucky to have momma. well, she’s lucky to have _me_  anyway.**

**brassy and i didn’t form any sort of truce in the garage. i  can’t be expected to kick someone’s ass while i’m eating, and i sure wasn’t about to waste perfectly good bacon by putting it on the floor just to teach brassy who’s boss. guy’s gotta know it’s me. or maybe he doesn’t because he asked me somethin’ really stupid while we ate.**

**he asked about the garage door opener and what momma had said about it. that poor idiot doesn’t have a naturally suspicious bone in his body. i couldn’t believe he didn’t get the hint when momma told him about the door. “if something ever happens to me” she’d said. one of us, usually me, is always with her, so she’s always got protection. what the hell else could happen unless she did it to herself.**

**i had to explain to mr. naive about momma’s depression, the very reason we’d gotten his stupid ass in the first place. why else would i share my food and momma’s attention if it wasn’t for her own good?**

**i’d dust anyone who ever made momma feel that way, even myself, and i’d never let things get that bad. never. even if it meant sharing her. even if it meant she never wanted to see me again. even if it killed me. i will never allow momma to hurt like that. not now. not ever. whatever it takes.**

**not that it’s anything… well… personal. she feeds me and takes care of me is all. i’m not, y’know, _in love_  with her or anything. not really. not  _in love_ … per se. i mean, anyone would love someone who took care of them, right? it’s not weird or anything. i barely even like her.**

**after all, she did completely and utterly neglect me during bath time. seriously, just because assberry has a hole in his head and can’t swim doesn’t mean he’s some kind of needy baby. i had to wait, and she wonders why i only gave her one star on yelp. she even made us share a towel! it’s not like we’re low on towels. it’s not like there’s some worldwide towel shortage. we don’t need them for the war, so let’s not get towel-stingy here. geez.**

**one last thing: i do NOT pretend to be a shark in the bathtub. i really like the jaws music. i’m really good at swimming. i’m an adept underwater predator who likes feasting on rubber ducky flesh, and if that makes me a shark, then**

_(It does.)_

**YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE READING THIS!**


End file.
